A Spooky Valentines – A macabre poem for A Guy Called Bloke’s Challenge.

art-1293869_960_720

Well, As it’s nearly halloween, I thought I would flick through my notebook to find a post from yesteryear to share with you and I found this poem that I wrote in response to a challenge set by that fantastic blogger, A Guy Called Bloke. It’s sort of appropriate for Valentines day or for Halloween… Enjoy:

Well it may be far too late now, but A Guy Called Bloke set a challenge to write a horror story (or Poem) including the following items:

Spooky Card

Rotten Heart

Carnivorous Chocolate Box

Haunted Balloons

Romantic Massacre

Voodoo Dolly

Undead Partner

Devilish Desire

See the posts here:

Valentine’s for Luvvies Challenge 2019 . 9

Valentine’s for Luvvies Challenge 2019 D9

NOTEBOOK

So here is my attempt.

A spooky card came through the door,

I opened it up and nearly swore,

It was from a man I’d thought was dead.

He should have been, I’d chopped off his head.

My undead partner will turn me insane,

It seemed he’d risen up once again,

I thought I’d driven him away.

But now he’s back on Valentine’s Day!

This time I’ll extract his rotten heart,

A romantic massacre to tear him apart,

Or else I’ll use my voodoo doll,

Or haunted balloons, I’m on a roll.

Or how about a carnivorous chocolate box?

Of failing that a dose of chicken pox?

No, I’ll overindulge my devilish desire,

And burn him satanically on the fire.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 15/February/2019

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/02/15/your-daily-word-prompt-overindulgence-february-15-2019/

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In Velvet Dreams – A Nostalgic Ghostly Tale

As you may know, I am currently taking a break, but wanted to share some of my earliest posts with you, that you may have missed. 

This was the first ghost story I ever wrote on the 5th of April 2018.

Quite appropriate now as Halloween was yesterday.  

All the best 🙂 

In Velvet Dreams

He couldn’t believe it. Ever since he was a little boy, he always wanted one of those grand Victorian houses, like the one in Mary Poppins. With the house prices in London sky high he could see his dream getting further and further away. It was surprising, but here it was for sale, the House of his dreams.

He worked as a freelance journalist and so money was not flowing and sometimes the stream dried up completely for a short time. He had just come to the end of a lucrative contract and he had saved every penny, living mainly on baked beans just so he could get the biggest deposit he could. He was quite lucky in that his Uncle owned the flat he lived in, in Clapton, and so he paid minimal rent.

Continue reading In Velvet Dreams – A Nostalgic Ghostly Tale

The Haunted House – A comedy poem.

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This poem was inspired by this wonderful drawing by Kira of Kira’s Sunday Scribbles.

If you want to join in the challenge of writing something inspired by this great picture, click on this link below:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/21/kiras-sunday-scribbles-13/

I have also included in my poem the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/31/ghoulish/

FOWC with Fandango — Drawer

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/22/your-daily-word-prompt-disguise-october-22-2018/

The Haunted House

As I walked into the place

I saw a strange face

On the mantlepiece wall

The eyes followed me around

And to my horror I found

A man standing there in the hall.

He wore a Ghoulish disguise

And I hate those guys

So, I ran away up the stairs

With a chainsaw he chased

But I had him outpaced

And I hid and said a few prayers.

I pulled open a drawer

Then fell through the floor

And landed on a mattress below.

How the crowds laughed!

For it wasn’t witchcraft,

It was all part of a Halloween show.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 22/October/2018

The Strange Inheritance – Finale – A Multiple Word Prompt Story for Halloween.

This is my final part of the horror story I have been resposting that I wrote a couple of years ago.

I hope you enjoy this last instalment of my Halloween story. 🙂

This story contains the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/bloodcurdling/

FOWC with Fandango — Weight

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/your-daily-word-prompt-wicked-october-31-2018/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/rdp-wednesday-costume/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/30/monster/

https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/daily-writing-challenge-31/

Halloween, ghosts, goblins.

James held Jennifer’s weight in his arms as she continued to cry into his shoulder.

“How did you know? Did you find her body in the cellar?” Jennifer’s’ voice was muffled and it barely sounded like her at all.

“I found something in the Cellar. It wasn’t her body. Something is going on in the cellar, there are books down there and scientific equipment” James hesitated before continuing “There are also jars containing body parts. I recognised Aunt Elizabeth’s eyes.”

Jennifer pulled back and stared into her brothers face. Her eyes were open as wide as they would go, he could see the whites all around her pale grey irises. She looked deathly pale too. He smiled at her, to try to reassure her and patted her hand.

“How did you know she was dead, Jenn?” 

“She came over to me as I was reading and spoke to me. I thought it was her, but then she changed into a girl and ran through that bookshelf. She was a ghost, James. I hate this place, there are ghosts here. I want to leave. Can’t we go now, before its too late? It’s Halloween and I don’t want to stay here after nightfall.”

“You know full well we can’t leave. We would forfeit Uncle Joshua’s money and everything we’ve done will be in vain.” James smiled again.

A thought passed through Jennifer’s mind. If the Aunt Elizabeth that came to her just now had been a ghost and there was a jar in the cellar that already contained her eyes, then maybe the Aunt Elizabeth they had heard screaming in Old Uncle Joshua’s bedroom had been the real one. Maybe the one they saw afterwards in her bedroom, that had been a ghost, or something else in disguise. She looked back at her brother who was grinning at her. James was sullen and morose, it wasn’t like him to smile like that. His eyes too were intense, bluer than she remembered.

Quickly she jumped up and ran to the door.

“Jenn? What’s up?”

She turned and shouted.

“Are you really James? Or are you some trick? I can’t stand this any more.”

James stopped walking towards her and suddenly the same thought occurred to him, nothing is quite what it seemed in this place.

“How do I know it’s really you for that matter? Look, Jenn, we’ve got to trust each other, or we’ve had it. Remember in the orphanage, I gave you my teddy bear when the warden said we couldn’t sleep in the same dormitory. What was it called, do you remember?”

The memory came flooding back, the loneliness of the orphanage. She used to cry herself to sleep every night missing her mother and father and James kept sneaking into the girls’ dorm to comfort her. When they caught him there they would beat him, but he still came. Then he gave her his teddy bear. What was it called again? That’s right, it was called Mr Micawber.

“Mr Micawber, I remember”

They both relaxed then. The feeling that they were not on their own gave them some comfort.

They sat down on a leather sofa and looked through the window at the grim light. It was still hours from sunset but it was one of those days where the grey clouds kept it from becoming true daylight. The view down to the lake would have been pretty on a sunny day, but today it only gave a modicum of comfort.

James had picked up the journal from where Jennifer had dropped it on the floor.

“So, what’s this you’ve been reading, Jenn?” 

“It’s horrible James. It’s Old Josiah Van De Gaard’s journal. He was wicked, a monster. He murdered his own child. I think he was dabbling in devil worship too.”

James opened the book and skim read it. He was always a quick reader, he had a much faster brain. “Yes, It looks like you’re right, he was into something really dark. He was looking to make himself immortal! Jenn, you know what?”

“No, James, What?”

“I think he succeeded. I think he’s here in this house somewhere.”

“Don’t James, I’m scared enough already. Where could he be, we’ve searched everywhere in the house and you’ve searched the cellar.”

“We haven’t been inside the master bedroom, it’s been kept locked. He’s got to be in there.”

“That’s enough James. I can’t take any more of this. I don’t want to find out any more about this horrible house. Let’s just leave. While we still can.”

“No Jenn, I promise I won’t go looking any more. We’ll stay together from now on, but we’ve got to stay the night. We’ll inherit a fortune. We’ll get Aunt Elizabeth’s share now too.”

“How can you be so callous, James. She was our Aunt.”

“She was a hateful, selfish old woman. You don’t remember like I do. She deserved what she got. It’s just the two of us now, but I’ll look after you, I promise. Haven’t I always?”

From then on, they stayed together, stuck firmly with the glue of absolute terror. In the kitchen, Jennifer heated up the dinner that Mrs Ponsomby had left them and they ate it sat at the table as they watched the meagre daylight slowly diminish. They had turned on all the lights of the house already, every single lamp. They had also brought the torch down from upstairs so they would not be caught out by any sudden power cuts.

The additional light didn’t seem to help that much. The noises started even before sunset. The voices whispered at them, called to them.

They could hear footsteps overhead. Scampering steps like little goblins running up and down the stairs. Jennifer heard the same cackling laughter that Aunt Elizabeth had made before she’d transformed into a ghost child.

“You should have gone, while you had the chance. Too late. Too late now. You’re mine now.”

This was no whisper but the loud deep voice of a man, it came from the floor above.

Then they heard a bloodcurdling scream and all the lights went out.

Quickly, James pulled the torch out from his pocket and the kitchen illuminated. Jennifer started lighting the candles they’d placed around the room, then held his hand in a vice-like grip.

The door to the cellar flew open and the same voice came calling.

“Come to me now. It is time, at last. The final step. Your blood is mine.”

Jennifer ran screaming towards the front door but James grabbed her and held her tightly. He was smiling at her again. A twisted smile. His eyes seemed to glow. Then he began walking toward the cellar door, pulling her along. She struggled and screamed but he was too strong. He was always stronger.

“That’s it, come to me. You can’t resist the call of the blood.”

He dragged her down the steps into the dank cellar. A red light came from somewhere further in.

“Yes, bring her to me. I must have blood to be fully released.”

Then she was the creature standing in the main chamber of the cellar. It wasn’t human, or at least, it wasn’t anymore. Horns sprouted from out of the bald cranium, the sunken eyes in that old mans face glowed red. The gnarled old hands ended in claws and the grinning mouth contained a multitude of pointed fangs.

Jennifer tried desperately to pull out of her brothers grasp but his grip would not lessen. He stood staring blankly at the demonic presence that their great-grandfather had become.

An almighty crash sounded coming somewhere above them. The fiend looked up and shouted. “Noooooo!”

Down the cellar steps, figures emerged each wearing a costume of red satin robes with black masks. They were chanting in Latin.

“Dies irae, dies illa solvet saeculum in favilla teste David cum Sybilla. Tuba, mirum pargens sonum per sepulchra regionum coget omnes ante thronum. Quod sum miser tunc dicturus, quem patronum rogaturus cum vix iustus sit securus”

As they chanted the demonic monster roared and grew larger, exploding from its prison within the body of that old man. Remnants of flesh remained at the monster’s feet as it expanded to fill the space to the vaulted ceiling.

A figure wearing white robes and a black cap ran forward and threw white powder over the floor and over James and Jennifer too.

The other figures formed a circle around the creature and continued chanting, getting louder, filling the space with their voices.

James shook himself free of his enchantment and looked around him, he remembered nothing since the lights went out in the kitchen above. The smell of sulphur and decay filled his nostrils. The sight of the huge demon made him fall back. It was then he realised he was still holding Jennifer’s hand. She was staring at him like he was a monster.

What’s going on? Who are you?” James shouted at the man in white.

“We are the Order of the Black Rose. We are here to finish off this Demon for once and for all.”

One of the red-robed figures cried out “Quickly Doctor, we can’t hold it much longer. He is too powerful. He is breaking free.”

The figure in white pulled a long-bladed knife from his robes.

“It has to be this way. I’m sorry. Our former leader, Joshua Van De Gaard discovered the secret before he died. He spent his whole life keeping the demon that his father had become contained, but he couldn’t break the original pact. As long as there is Van De Gaard blood running through someone’s veins, Josiah Van De Gaard, or the demon he has become, cannot die. Only with the death of every Van De Gaard can we finish off this monster.”

The man pulled Jennifer up from the floor where she had fainted and grasped her hair in one hand exposing her neck. He lifted up his blade ready to strike.

“No, Wait!” James shouted and grabbed the mans wrist, holding the knife “She isn’t a Van De Gaard. She’s not my sister. My Sister died of a fever before I was sent to the orphanage. I couldn’t bear the thought that I had failed her. I wanted to protect her, but I failed. At the orphanage I met this girl, she looked so much like Jennifer that I decided I would protect her instead. I called her Jennifer and eventually, she forgot who she really was. I am the last Van De Gaard.”

James wrestled the knife from the Doctors hand. He held it firmly and then plunged it into his own chest.

The Demon screamed, it’s head fell back and a white light emerged from its gaping maw.

The chanting grew louder and the Doctor began chanting different words that echoed around the chamber with great power.

The Demon exploded and all went black.

**********************************************************************************

Jennifer awoke from a terrible nightmare. She was laying in a strange bed with a feather pillow under her head and a hideous pink candlewick bedspread over her.

She didn’t recognise the room. It wasn’t her flat, that was for sure. It was a small room, with a tiny window through which sunlight was streaming. There was a writing desk in one corner and on the wall opposite was a large crucifix.

The door opened and a lady came in carrying a tray. She recognised the woman and a name came into her head which she spoke out loud.

“Mrs Ponsomby?”

The woman came over and placed the tray on her lap then put a hand to her forehead before replying.

“That’s right dear, quite a turn I had finding you unconscious on the kitchen floor. Dr Forbes has been in to see you. He said you would be right as rain. I’ve brought you some chicken soup, that should help build your strength up. I knew you’d catch a chill, sleeping in that draughty old house by yourself. Well, all that’s done and dusted now. There’s a solicitor chap downstairs who wants to see you, but I said he’d have to wait until you’ve had something to eat first. I expect he’ll want to talk about your inheritance. I’ll send him up in a little while.”

“Thank you, Mrs Ponsomby,” Jennifer said weakly.

She smiled and left the room.

As Jennifer lay there, she felt a cold sensation come over her. Then on the desk, the pen began moving on its own. She heard the scratch-scratch sound as the fountain pen passed over a scrap of paper. Then the pen dropped to the floor and she felt the coldness leave.

Pushing back the tray, Jennifer jumped out of the bed and picked up the paper. Scrawled on it were only a few words.

“I protected you the only way I could. Love, James.”

THE END.

Copyright@ Kristian Fogarty 31st October 2018

50 Word Thursday # 95

Happy Halloween,

It’s time again for that brilliant creative writing challenge, the 50 Word Thursday challenge and I have chosen a Halloween themed picture and caption this week.

I am taking it in turns to host this challenge with Deb Whittam of the blog Twenty Four. Click on the link below to see her post about the results of last weeks challenge:

So, now to this weeks challenge:

The Rules:

  • Find the muse within the photo or line provided and follow where it leads. It can be a story, anecdote, poem. Anything!
  • The Story must be between 50 and 250 words, in 50-word increments. (so 50, 100, 150, 200 or 250 words)
  • Link back to this post with the tag 50WordThurs so that everyone can find it, or post your response in the comments below.
  • HAVE FUN!

So here is the picture for this week:

and here are the words:

“If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

I hope you enjoy this week’s challenge. I will gather together all the entries and publish a results post on Wednesday.

Have fun. 🙂

The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

I have been writing this creepy horror story for a while now and I hope to write the final part in time for Halloween. This is the next bit.

If you’d like to start reading it from the beginning, here is the first bit:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2018/09/01/multiple-word-prompt-story-the-strange-inheritance/

This story contains the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2020/10/23/creep/

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/granite/

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/rdp-saturday-fabulist/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/your-daily-word-prompt-cackle-october-20-2018/

FOWC with Fandango — Fierce

https://swimmersweek.wordpress.com/2018/10/20/elves/

Jennifer had forgotten that tonight was Halloween until Mrs Ponsomby had mentioned it. For some reason, it gave her quite a jolt, sending a shiver that she felt gradually creep down her spine. The already grim atmosphere in the house seemed to increase. Despite the fact that it was still daylight outside, she got up and turned on the lamp on a nearby table.

The additional light made her feel fractionally better. The bulb flickered and buzzed in its old-fashioned leather lampshade. moth-eaten gold tassels hung around the edge, in keeping with the general shabbiness. Most of the books lining the shelves showed the damage of the years. A damp patch on the ceiling threatened further damage to come, and this was one of the better rooms in the dilapidated old ruinous house. The sooner they tore it down the better, as far as she was concerned.

“Well, just one more night and then the money will all be ours,” she said to herself. She wasn’t by nature a particularly money oriented person but having endured one night in this godforsaken place with another one to come, she felt she’d earned it fair and square.

Continue reading The Strange Inheritance – Part Seven – A Multiple Word Prompt Story

Twittering Tales – Lonely Girl.

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Photo by kalhh at Pixabay.com

She laid out the picnic cloth on the damp ground and passed around the victuals.

It wasn’t the place most people would choose to have a family picnic, among broken tombstones, many just about to keel over, but it was her family plot and she wanted her dearly departed around her.

[279 characters]

 

This story was written for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales Challenge, click on the link below to see her post:

Twittering Tales #160 – 29 October 2019

 

I have also included the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/11/04/keel/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/11/04/your-daily-word-prompt-victuals-november-4-2019/

 

50 Word Thursday #44 – A Midnight Feast.

IMG_2972.JPGAnd the Words: “The man Jack sniffed the air. Then, without hurrying, he began to walk up the hill.” – From Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book.

 

The graveyard over the hill had achieved the status of a legend. No one went there after dark, especially at Halloween. It was a shame no one told Jack.

He had an interest in history, someone had mentioned that there were graves in that cemetery that dated back to colonial times. Jack was also fascinated by the supernatural, there were bound to be ghosts. He could smell them.

The man Jack sniffed the air. Then, without hurrying, he began to walk up the hill.

He was surprised to see two figures dressed in plain dark clothes with white collars and cuffs. Straight out of olden times.

Then they turned and he saw the grey flesh and murderous eyes.

Jack fell and hit his head. The last thing he heard was an old-fashioned voice calling out “Martha, come and eat these fine tasting victuals” as something bit down on his leg.

 

[150 Words]

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge, click on the link below if you’d like to take part:

https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2019/10/31/50-word-thursday-44/

 

I have also included the following word prompts:

https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/11/03/legend/

https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/11/04/your-daily-word-prompt-victuals-november-4-2019/

 

50 Word Thursday #44

I am taking it in turns to host this challenge with Deb Whittam of the blog Twenty Four. Click on the link below to see her post about the results of last weeks challenge:

https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2019/10/31/50-word-thursday-43-the-results/

So, now to this weeks challenge:

The Rules:

  • Find the muse within the photo or line provided and follow where it leads. It can be a story, anecdote, poem. Anything!
  • The Story must be between 50 and 250 words, in 50-word increments. (so 50, 100, 150, 200 or 250 words)
  • Link back to this post with the tag 50WordThurs so that everyone can find it, or post your response in the comments below.
  • HAVE FUN!

So here is the picture for this week:

IMG_2972.JPG

And the Words: “The man Jack sniffed the air. Then, without hurrying, he began to walk up the hill.” – From Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book.

 

I hope you enjoy this week’s challenge. I will gather together all the entries and publish a results post on Wednesday.

Have fun. 🙂

 

A Halloween Collaborative Poem with Beckie of Beckie’s Mental Mess.

selective focus photo of cemetery lantern

I have been working with Beckie of Beckie’s Mental Mess to write a collaborative Halloween poem, here is the result:

It seemed like such a playful lark, 

to sleep in the graveyard, after dark

Though second guesses and question-marks

played inside my mind, I heard a mean dog bark.

This had all be done for a wicked bet,

I saw no harm at first, and yet

Surrounded by death, what could be a threat?

However, I was anxious and began to fret.

I regretted it already, in perfect hindsight,

after all, it was eerily dark that Halloween night. 

I brought my lantern for a little bit of light,

unfortunately for me, the light played tricks with my sight.

Did I see, in the shadows, a skeletal hand?

And other tormented shapes, I could scarcely understand. 

With little light, my eyes squinted as I scanned,

tombstones and mausoleums that tip, and could barely stand.

And then as the ancient clock struck the witching hour

the wind blew cold and the earthly scents turned sour. 

The ground began to shake, with such force and power,

gravestones cracked knocking over the vases of flowers.

I let out a scream, feeling full of fear and dread,

as from their broken granite graves rose up the dead.

What started as a playful lark, I was riddled with fear instead,

Mausoleum doors screeched open, a body appeared with no head.

An eerie light descended looking greenish in the fog, 

Then a piercing, ghoulish howl, was it a banshee or just a dog?

Sounds of the ghoulish howling grew closer, I hid behind a log,

as the scent of rotten eggs drifted through the thick smog.

And cowering from my hiding place, I took a glimpse and saw, 

A thousand zombie bodies gathered armed, as if for war.

How were they to gnaw,  if they had been missing a jaw?

Thoughts raced, the fear shook me to my very core.

As I huddled down in shadows and held my living breath, 

I could see the guts and gory corpses and smell the scent of death. 

I heard them drag their corpses, did they die of black death?

Or, was it rotting flesh of an overdosed victim on meth?

As they slowly stumbled nearer, I tried to sneak away

Then something icy fell against my arm, right there where I lay. 

One of the undead’s arms held me down, it was greenish-grey,

I felt his mouth touch my arse, I think it thought I was a buffet.

I jumped and screamed out loud, my backside wracked with pains, 

The zombie horde came towards me, mumbling about my Brains!

The zombies smelled blood pumping through my veins,

I tried to escape the graveyard, but the gate was locked by chains.

Frantically I ran around, jumping over abandoned graves,

trying hard to get away from those hungry zombie slaves.

Terror gripped me, fears of my own demise came to me in waves,

as the zombies grew closer, I reached for my switchblade.

Turning around to face them, in the darkness I heard my screams, 

Then I felt my panic lift like waking from unpleasant dreams. 

Several distorted zombies face shown from the moonbeams,

one of them finally reached me and ripped the seams on my jeans.

And though exposed I saw my flesh had turned to grey,

No pain, no fear, no longer did I feel, my cares had gone away,

I was the zombie’s quest, after all, they had captured their prey,

I felt my body tense then ooze, it was evident… I began to decay.

Then I felt a pang of hunger, one that I could never stem,

A thought when through my head, I was becoming one of them.

I thought of the bet and wager made between my friends,

It would be morning soon enough, I’d chew on them like gum.

But then the rising sun shone brightly in my swollen eyes, 

and my groaning zombie brothers crawled back into their tombs, with sighs

And joining them under the graveyard’s ground, this brand new zombie lies,

waiting to rise again next Halloween, as a Zombie never dies. 

 

I hope you liked it 😉